


The Care and Feeding of Your Witcher

by witherite



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blowjobs, Caring Jaskier | Dandelion, Feeding Kink, M/M, Self-Neglectful Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Service Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, Stuffing, Sub Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witherite/pseuds/witherite
Summary: Geralt doesn't eat as much as he should. If Jaskier's stubborn witcher isn't going to feed himself properly, Jaskier's going to make sure he gets the nutrition he needs. Because when Jaskier is presented with an opportunity to care for Geralt and treat him to nice things, he's always going to take it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 414





	The Care and Feeding of Your Witcher

**Author's Note:**

> For a [Witcher Kink Meme prompt](https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=59053#cmt59053) requesting service dom Jaskier feeding self-neglectful Geralt followed by sex. (This is a kink fic with mild D/s.) There's a serious lack of Geralt stuffing so I couldn't resist!

There's a hazy look in Geralt's eyes, and it's been intensifying along with the changes in the witcher's breathing. His breath is coming heavy and shallow now, labored. He looks positively enticing, sated and a little dazed and slightly uncomfortable but not necessarily in a bad way, and if witchers were able to blush there would surely be a pink flush high on his cheeks. Jaskier has to admit that when he started putting this plan in place he didn't expect Geralt to let things go this far, but it's exactly what he was hoping for.

Ten years of traveling consistently together and five years of being in a sexual and then romantic relationship have taught Jaskier what he has to do to get Geralt to do what he wants. A combination of coaxing, bribing, begging, and threatening to write the world's most embarrassing ballad about him and make it a hit across the continent tend to do the trick. And Jaskier might not have told Geralt exactly what his plan was, but somewhere along the road of his gentle nudging and prodding to continue it there was surely a point where Geralt caught on, and yet here they are. 

Here being the tavern below the inn they're staying at, with Geralt slumped back in his chair with a bit of grease on his cheek, nearly too stuffed to move. 

After Geralt returned to the inn last night from a week and a half on the road, where he'd been picking up odd jobs in the surrounding areas while the bard performed at the tavern every night because they'd once again gone flat broke, Jaskier finally reached a breaking point. Geralt looked pitifully hungry and somewhat emaciated, and when he handed Jaskier the purse he'd filled while looking proud despite his obvious exhaustion, Jaskier realized Geralt hadn't bought himself a real meal or proper rations the whole time he was gone. He'd burned through his supplies and then saved the rest of the money in case Jaskier hadn't been able to earn enough on his own to keep a roof over their heads. Jaskier's no stranger to Geralt refusing to take care of himself, from not sleeping to not taking care of his wounds to not accepting caring touches to practically digging himself a grave before allowing anyone to emotionally support him, and unfortunately, Geralt starving himself is all too familiar. Jaskier had been fantasizing about doing this for a long time, and had tried it out a little before, but he could never quite get himself to explain what he wanted and didn't seem to be able to nudge Geralt into going along with it otherwise. But after last night, Geralt pale and gaunt and swaying a bit on his feet as the lack of rest and sufficient fuel for his fast witcher metabolism got to him, Jaskier snapped. 

"Got something there, love," Jaskier says, and wipes Geralt's cheek with his sleeve. Geralt grunts, but just barely, looking listless. The fact that he actually let Jaskier clean his face up in public says all that needs to be said, and Jaskier can't help but smile. He hadn't wondered if witchers got food comas before, but he's gotten an answer nonetheless. Really, it would just cement Geralt's mutant status if he hadn't after how much he's eaten. 

And it's obvious just by looking at him how much that is. Geralt's taut and muscular abdomen is distended, visibly swollen belly pressing against his tight-fitting shirt. His hand is resting gingerly on it as he breathes slowly and with effort, stomach so stretched with food it's intruding into his breathing room. After a whole day of being fed by Jaskier, Geralt's finally starting to reach his limit. It's an odd thing to find cute, but Jaskier finds it cute nonetheless: his big tough scary witcher looking docile and satisfied and sleepy with a round tummy he's very tempted to poke. Geralt could still kill him in this state, though, so he won't try it. Jaskier has to hide a smirk when he sees Geralt loosened the laces of his trousers even further when Jaskier got up to fetch him another mug of ale, until they're barely even fastened to avoid putting pressure on his increasingly tender stomach. Geralt is a sight to see right now, and Jaskier loves it. 

"How about you finish this, then we'll go upstairs?" Jaskier asks, picking up the half a loaf of bread still in front of Geralt. Geralt grunts, looking wary at the thought of trying to fit anything else into his already overfull belly. Jaskier can't blame him. To be honest, he's surprised Geralt has managed to eat this much, but witchers really are special beings. Any regular mortal man probably would've had his stomach burst by now. It's not an exaggeration to say Jaskier has spent the whole day feeding Geralt, dragging the witcher around town coaxing him into eating whatever nice meats and pastries and cheeses and breads and vegetables and stews and pies they found along their way. Anything he thought Geralt might enjoy. But Jaskier knows Geralt can eat a little more, just a little, and he wants to make sure he has as much nutrition as possible to offset that long and hard week and a half on the road and decades of malnourishment before that. So Jaskier uses his secret weapon. He's already had to use it once today, when he convinced Geralt that he'd made more than enough money for them to enjoy themselves for a bit even without Geralt's contribution and so Geralt was going to let Jaskier treat him goddammit, but that was several hours ago so it will probably work again. Especially with the way Geralt has gradually become sluggish and acquiescing like a spoiled housecat. "Finish it for me?" 

That does it. The firm but gentle voice, the encouraging but insistent look. Jaskier's service dom demeanor. When Jaskier gets into service dom mode Geralt knows he's going to be taken care of, and for someone who aggressively resists being taken care of, he sure gives in easily when Jaskier addresses him as his dom. Probably because Jaskier's been making the arrangement so good for him for years that eventually, even a witcher will give in to being bathed and massaged and praised and fingerfucked until he nearly cries if he behaves well enough to earn it. Jaskier very, very rarely uses that voice and look when they're not alone, so when he does, Geralt knows to listen. 

"Good," Jaskier praises Geralt, as he obediently takes the bread from Jaskier's hands and begins to slowly, arduously eat. Jaskier wishes Geralt would've let him hand-feed him, really wishes, but even he's willing to accept that would be too far. Keeping his voice too low for anyone else to hear, Jaskier murmurs, "You've been so good today. I think I'll reward you when we get back upstairs, yeah?" 

Geralt doesn't even have to nod. Jaskier knows the answer is _yes, yes, yes_. 

In their room a few minutes later, Jaskier takes a moment to look over Geralt and enjoy the sight in front of him. Geralt doesn't bother to shrink away from his eyes when Jaskier eyes his bloated abdomen, too far gone to feel self-conscious around his dom. Jaskier's expression is appreciative, anyway. Geralt's hunched over a bit, the heavy meals and countless snacks in his gut weighing him down and making it uncomfortable to straighten up all the way, and somewhere along their slow journey up the stairs he managed to get his trousers completely unlaced so his tight shirt has ridden up and exposed just a bit of the bottom of his belly. The protruding roundness of it makes Jaskier want to stroke it, and so he does. 

"Did you have a good day?" Jaskier asks Geralt in a quiet voice, running his hand gently up and down the curve of his firm stomach. Geralt doesn't reply at first, so Jaskier drops a kiss on his collarbone. "Enjoy the food?" 

Finally, Geralt nods. 

"Good," Jaskier says, and kisses Geralt on the lips next. Geralt lets him do it but doesn't respond much, languid and tired, and it makes Jaskier laugh. But Geralt doesn't seem surprised at all when Jaskier kisses him again, more heated this time, and then again. Or when Jaskier slides his hand up Geralt's shirt to caress his bare abs. Geralt might be oblivious at times, but he's not unobservant; he must've been able to tell that Jaskier was starting to get really into seeing him like this. Seeing him obediently stuff himself. It must've been obvious from Jaskier's eyes lingering a bit too long on his progressively swelling gut, his hands beginning to casually touch, little pats and rubs that took longer for him to pull away from each time. And from the way Geralt played along once Jaskier had gotten him on board with a couple good meat pies and the numerous delicacies and hearty fare following them, seemed to enjoy the attention, he knows Geralt is okay with him being into this. "I'd say the food was your reward, but I'm feeling generous and you were really obedient," Jaskier continues, low and sultry after pulling away from another kiss. "So get on the bed." 

Geralt's so stuffed he stumbles to the bed slow and with effort, kicking off his boots aimlessly along the way, and winces as he sets himself down on it. He closes his eyes as he leans back against the pillows, letting out a quiet groan. 

"Don't fall asleep on me," Jaskier warns him. Geralt gives him a lazy little smile, and that's good enough. Jaskier approaches the bed and then climbs onto it, straddling Geralt. He considers stripping his sub like he does about half the time, ordering Geralt to strip for him the other half, but Geralt seems like he really doesn't want to move and it's probably not the best idea to jostle all the food in his belly more than necessary. Luckily, Geralt doesn't need to be naked for what Jaskier has in mind. And his trousers are already open, so they're about halfway to where they should be. 

"You're going to make me do all the work, aren't you?" Jaskier grumbles, and Geralt smiles again with a little _hm_. This time Geralt does kiss back, though still without much force behind it, but it's enough to satisfy Jaskier. Geralt's mouth mostly tastes like rye bread when Jaskier slips his tongue into it, but there are hints of everything else Jaskier's persuaded into him today. Jaskier likes it. They kiss openmouthed for a while before Jaskier pulls away to kiss his way down Geralt's neck, drawing uneven and heavy breaths from the witcher, who's started to grow aroused beneath him. Jaskier slides his shirt up and then keeps kissing down his body, finally beginning to lavish attention on his swollen belly. Geralt lets out a pleased moan as Jaskier presses a few kisses to it and then rubs it in light and gentle circles, shamelessly leaning into his touch. Jaskier's surprised he's so open with his reactions, but he certainly won't complain. Geralt practically melts beneath his hands as Jaskier massages his full stomach, not enough pressure to hurt but enough to provide comfort. Jaskier's glad Geralt likes it, because he's sure he'll be doing it again later; stuffing Geralt near to bursting probably wasn't the best thing for his digestion, but luckily, Jaskier knows how to help with that. He's eager to, even. Service dom to a fault. 

"Gluttonous, that's what you are," Jaskier says, feeling safe enough to tease since they both know it's the farthest thing from the truth.

"Your fault," Geralt replies.

"True as that may be," Jaskier says, and then does not finish the sentence with a rebuttal. Instead, he spreads Geralt's legs and then presses his lips to where the witcher's cock has hardened and begun to wet his underwear with precome. Geralt's breath catches and he remains breathless as he moans, and Jaskier loves the sound. Geralt used to be nearly silent in bed until Jaskier gradually began to draw more noises out of him both through intensely pleasurable stimulation and making him feel safe enough to let go, and these days he can reliably get plenty of moans and _fucks_ and growls out of the witcher along with the occasional cry of his name. Today he gets another low moan as he pulls Geralt's cock out of his underwear and sinks down on it immediately. Geralt just lays there limply and pants and makes a quiet noise every so often as Jaskier works his tongue and lips on his cock, but it's enough. And he gets a soft groan of _Jaskier_ right before Geralt comes, which is one of his favorite sounds in the world. 

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks, once he's gotten Geralt in the bath and is gently cleaning his sub up with a nice chamomile soap.

"Hm?"

"What do you want for breakfast tomorrow? Maybe some pastries, or -" 

Jaskier yelps and dashes across the room as Geralt splashes the bathwater at him.


End file.
